


Soundscream Week 2021

by AsteroidMiyoko



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Soundscream2021
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-16 19:34:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28961781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsteroidMiyoko/pseuds/AsteroidMiyoko
Summary: Drabbles for Soundscream Week 2021, 500-1000 words ish, chapters not necessarily related.
Relationships: Soundwave/Starscream (Transformers)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 32





	1. Flight

**Author's Note:**

> Nothing is like flight, except...

_There’s nothing like this!_ Starscream thought, the first time he was allowed to fly without supervision from the elders. He dipped and wove around the spires of Vos, getting close enough to massive windows that the shockwave that followed him vibrated the glass.

He was definitely going to get in trouble for that later.

But at the moment the only thing on the future-seeker’s mind was going as fast and as far as he could; away from tutors, away from his caregivers, away from the nest.

“One day,” he murmured, inaudible over the rushing wind, “I’m going to show this place my thrusters for the last time.”

~~~~~

Years later, the war interrupted his triumphant exodus, and it was through soot-stained optics that he last saw his home, broken and smoking, the crystal spire falling to the ground as his trine mates dragged him into the atmosphere.

~~~~~

“This is your fault!”

Starscream’s servos shook as he pointed a null ray at Megatron who, to his credit, neither cowered nor raised his own weapon. He simply listened as his Air Commander shouted at him about tactical errors and the detriment to the war effort. Listened as his shouts broke into sobs and then into an eerie silence.

And then said nothing as the seeker dropped his gun and sank to the ground, because there was nothing to say that could ease the pain of a broken trine bond.

By the time Starscream was again fully aware of his surroundings, he was alone on the bridge, surrounded by the dim blinking lights of the ship’s computers. He picked himself up, ignoring the grating of dirt in his joints, and made his way to the door of the bridge, which for some reason did not open automatically at his proximity.

Optics narrow, he palmed the control panel. _They didn’t lock me in, did they?_ Even as he thought it, a message from Megatron’s favorite spy popped up on his HUD.

||Door: Locked. Purpose: Privacy. Code: Starscream’s.||

Quickly, almost believing it was a trick, he sent his command code and after a moment the door slid open. 

In the days that followed, when he’d not gotten over his grief, but at least gotten control of it, Starscream thought to thank Soundwave for the gesture. For making sure the troops didn’t see him laid so low. But every time he cleared his vocoder to say something, he couldn’t. And every day it felt a little sillier to try, since the other mech never mentioned it. Until finally, he gave up and simply let the gratitude settle into the part of his processor set aside for individuals of the command team.

~~~~~

It happened again decades later, not that exact scenario of course, but Starscream found himself inexplicably in Soundwave’s debt.

By that time Megatron had grown far less reasonable, convinced that there was some unique power that would win them the war, and sent them on increasingly perplexing missions to find it.

After one such mission, when the Seeker led a team to a remote nebula and had encountered, not a weapon or even energon, but instead a ship of hostile humanoids who managed to offline several mechs before they could escape, Megatron was *furious*. He accused Starscream of deliberately sabotaging the mission, of somehow leading his troops into danger instead of to the relayed coordinates.

Before he could prepare for the punishment which was increasingly common, a soft voice spoke up.

“Lord Megatron. Information: Accurate. Signatures of energon and enemy ship: Identical.”

Megatron peered at Starscream for a long moment, frowning and optics glowing bright...before finally nodding.

“Understood. The search continues.”

A shaky vent left Starscream as he carefully backed away from Megatron and his throne, and he didn’t stop backing away until he was safely off the bridge and headed to the medbay.

And _still_ he couldn’t think of what to say, how to thank Soundwave when their paths crossed again later. But he thought, maybe, there was some understanding in the nod that was sent his way.

~~~~~

Flying wasn’t the same.

If he were honest it hadn’t been the same since Vos, but at the very least he’d had his trinemates with him before to help him blow off steam with a race or aerobatic competition. Now, the only time he got to fly was on fruitless mission after fruitless mission.

Starscream stood by the window of the Nemesis as they maintained a low orbit over Earth. He watched the clouds silently, lost in thought until-

A flash of silver streaked by.

_What was that?_

It went by again, and just as he was about to turn on his scanners to make sure it wasn’t some autobot probe, he detected someone suddenly by his left wing.

“Identity: Lazerbeak.”

“I-“ he thought of protesting that he of course knew that, but there was never any point in lying to Soundwave. “I see. Doing what exactly?”

“Flying.”

With a huff, Starscream folded his arms. “Well, obviously.”

They watched for a while, silver glint appearing and disappearing in the sky as the sun set, and it occurred to him that what was so jarring about the situation was not the sight of one of the spy’s symbionts, but rather the fact that he’d never seen one alone before, either on a mission or during recreation. Something like guilt burned in him that he hadn’t noticed until now.

Soundwave turned to him, visor as inscrutable as ever.

“Soundwave: Misses flying too.”


	2. Compromise

Soundwave didn’t sigh. No, that was for mechs who had the luxury of displaying their emotions freely. Not only did his visor block his expressions from view, but even without it, there was too much risk in the Decepticons’ lead spy being so easily read. So, no, he didn’t sigh.

But it was a damn close thing.

Starscream paced along the length of the bridge, talons sometimes curling into fists, sometimes making a strange motion as if slicing an invisible enemy, and all the while muttered to himself about Megatron’s latest plan. While open discussion had been an option in the early days of the war, when their leader still viewed himself as the voice of the people, these days, on the cold, dark energon tinted, and nearly abandoned halls of Nemesis, they were afforded no such freedom. So it was not as if Soundwave necessarily disagreed with the Air Commander, but he had enough sense to know not to make a show of it, and on the _bridge_ no less.

There was also the fact that they had become somewhat...friendly of late. And that meant, any moment now, Starscream would-

“You understand what I mean, right, Soundwave?” The seeker demanded suddenly, stopping in front of him, as if they’d been having a conversation the entire time.

Why, oh, _why_ hadn’t he made a tactical retreat ten minutes ago?

“Well??”

“Starscream:-“

“Oh no, don’t give me that! You know very well that he’s completely lost the plot! And besides-“

Thank Primus he’d always been a little quicker than the seeker. In a flash, Soundwave had a servo over Starscream’s mouth, and it was surprising enough that it shocked him into silence while the spy spoke quietly.

“Starscream: Correct. However, action: Premature.”

Wings tilted up alongside widening optics though, thankfully, Starscream, schooled them back to neutrality in an instant. He relaxed as he processed Soundwave’s response, lips quirking, and that soft motion against his servo had the spy’s face heating behind his visor.

He should drop his arm. Really he should. Except Starscream was talking again, and if he hadn’t been able to hear him, he believed he might just have been able to tell what he was saying from the shape of his mouth on his servo, and it was just so...

“Are you with me, Soundwave?”

Soundwave was the optics and audials of the ship. He knew without a doubt where everyone was, what they could witness or overhear, and so he _knew_ Megatron was nowhere nearby at the moment. Still, his voice was barely a whisper when he responded, “Affirmative.” 

In that moment he saw that the difference between a guarded Starscream and a relieved one was entirely too obvious. But instead of chiding his additional lapse of control, he inclined his own helm closer, closer, filled with a fondness brought on by the thought that someone cared about his opinion for reasons other than winning an ancient war.

“Soundwave: With you, of course.”


	3. Longing

He wasn’t good at communication.

For all that Starscream had tutors growing up whose specific job was to teach him communications skills, that was just...different than this.

Starscream stared at the pad, at the empty space where all he had to do was write ‘Hello’ or ‘Just checking in’ or any other sort of mundane opener. Several times he started, only to think better of it and erase everything with a sigh more aimed at himself than anything else.

See, when it was just mission briefings, that was easy. Convey the appropriate information, no need for filler or even politeness, just get the job done. That was something they both understood. But this, this _personal_ correspondence where there was nothing to be relayed except the acknowledgement that he was thinking of him...

With a huff, Starscream tossed the pad down on his berth and paced.

“Ridiculous. I’m being ridiculous. No, _he’s_ the ridiculous one, for accepting an assignment so far away! No reason they couldn’t have sent someone else!”

It was new, this thing between them. A careful exploration, rushed meetings in dark corners to lean against each other and breathe out the stresses of the day. They hadn’t even kissed before Soundwave took that damned assignment!

And maybe, that was a little of it.

The newness felt fragile, like with a talon he could scratch a long line in it that wouldn’t ever really heal if he made the wrong move. For someone so historically convinced of his own superiority, it was a difficult thing to admit.

But honestly, what was the worst that could happen from reaching out first?

“He could think I’m needy and unprofessional, that’s what...”

A voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Skywarp, laughed and said, “If your _lover_ can’t handle you being needy and unprofessional sometimes, what good are they?”

“We’re hardly lovers...” Starscream replied, frowning.

Thundercracker shrugged in that casual way of his, “Everyone deserves someone they can be themselves with.”

He thought to bristle at the idea that being vulnerable was being ‘himself’ but it was too late. The advice of his trinemates, or at least the versions of them that still lived in his spark, had wormed its way into his processor, and now he couldn’t help but think that they might be right.

Making up his mind once and for all, Starscream snatched up the pad and typed out a short message, and sent it before he could stop himself.

~~~~~

Light-years away, Soundwave felt a little smile forming behind his visor as he watched three little dots appear and disappear on his pad several times over the course of an hour. Which was not to say he hadn’t had a similar conflict, practically from the moment he’d left. Starscream was still largely a mystery to him, and he hadn’t quite parsed how to handle him in person let alone long-distance.

After a while, he thought to break the awkward silence, and brought thin digits up to start typing, when suddenly a message came though. It almost startled him into dropping the pad, so convinced had he become that it would be up to him to actually initiate a conversation.

It read, simply, ||Hope all is well.||

And then quickly again, ||Not just with the mission, but with you.||

Soundwave took a long moment to bask in the fondness that he felt, and then sent back, ||Mission: Progressing. Soundwave: Adequate. Will be better when home.||


	4. Ideal

"Oh yeah, big honking-"

Soundwave cut his gaze over to Rumble and Frenzy who were lounging on the couch with a bowl of snacks, having some ridiculous and _descriptive_ conversation about their ideal type. Frenzy noticed him looking and quickly finished the sentence with, "-uh, shoulders," before they both burst into laughter.

With a shake of his helm, Soundwave returned to the report he had been working on all afternoon. It wasn't an exciting task, per se, which was probably why he was so easily distracted by the antics of his cassettes.

"Ask the Boss." Rumble said with a hushed laugh.

"No way, you ask him!"

He pretended he couldn't hear them.

After a few moments of bickering, Frenzy spoke up. "So, Boss, what's your ideal type?"

Even with his visor on, the unimpressed look Soundwave leveled at them was significant. Not that it worked, of course, it had been thousands of years since he could intimidate them into any sort of decent behavior.

"No."

"Oh come on! Tell us and we'll be quiet for the rest of the night while you work!"

Well damn.

It was tempting...but why did they want to know something as benign as who he found attractive? Quickly, Soundwave scanned the room for recording devices and found none. It was still suspicious, but...oh well, what could it hurt.

"Your terms are acceptable."

The cassettes "whooped" loudly and leaned forward in anticipation.

And waited.

And waited...

Honestly he wasn't sure where to start. Oh this was going to be embarrassing... "Ask me questions." He managed, by way of recovery, and if the others noticed, they were polite enough not to say anything.

And so, Soundwave was met with a barrage which he tried to answer as quickly as possible.

"Height?"

"Similar to mine."

"Grounder or Flight?"

"Either."

"Boxy or smooth?"

"Smooth."

It was then that the giggling started, and Soundwave started to suspect that this had been a horrible idea. Still, he'd made a deal.

"Optic color?"

"Warm."

"Paint color?"

"Too broad a qu-"

"Come on, just pick one!"

"Fine, silver." That would teach them. One of the most common ones.

And on it went.

The laughter got louder. In fact, Rumble fell off the couch he was laughing so hard. A pad that Soundwave hadn't paid any mind to slipped from his servo, and he snatched it up before the cassettes could recover.

Oh it was a simple drawing of the traits he'd described, only...

It looked like...

"Don't worry, Boss, we won't tell Screamer you don't care if he has wings or not."

"I-"

Deal or not, Soundwave got no work done for the rest of the day.


End file.
